


Weak

by ThePinkFizz



Series: Discovering Drarry [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, British Slang, Clever Harry, Confrontations, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, I have no shame apparently, M/M, Masturbation in Bathroom, Public Display of Affection, Public Humiliation, Slang, Snide Remarks, Snogging, all the tongue, haughty Draco, pdas, semi-public wanking, so much snogging, sorta - Freeform, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 09:42:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11272902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePinkFizz/pseuds/ThePinkFizz
Summary: There had always been a line betwixt Draco and Harry. A very fine line. Now the line’s been crossed. There’s no going back.





	Weak

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! I got a request to continue writing Harry and Draco together so I said wth and made it a series. I'm gradually building this up to something more substantial, gradually being the key. This installment is quite a bit longer than the first one, so hopefully that sates all your Drarry needs! Comments and kudos are always appreciated! <3 PF

The upstairs Gryffindor bedchamber on the left side that had become his home for six years was warm and safe, bathed in the glow of early morning sun and the comforting sounds of the wood-burning stove crackling and popping occasionally. However, despite all of those comforts and the sounds, the feelings that he normally took solace in, he lay partly awake, plagued by sleeplessness, his body cool and sweaty as he remembered that day not so long ago.

 _That day_ in the rain covered in cool moisture but his body, his skin _on fire_ with the delicious tingles of ecstasy as he stared into those eyes, those cool silvery eyes that plagued him constantly day or night, they were all he saw. And all he craved to see again.

Harry suppressed what was almost a moan, tangled with disambiguation and the threat of sleep threatening to descend again with its delicious veil. He rolled away from the window onto his side, towards Ron's bed, who was snoring away, as usual; his thoughts never plagued relentlessly by anyone. _Must be nice_ he thought to himself.

Judging by the vague shadows that the sunlight was casting, he guessed it couldn't have been any earlier than 6 o'clock in the morning and he willed his body to let him descend back into the casual release of sleep that offered him at least some time away from those piercing silver eyes.

Yet Harry found no such luck, and his emerald eyes snapped open, bothered somewhat by the dull glow of the sun and still, heavy darkness of the room. He found himself groaning once more, quietly though, and he rolled on his back. He couldn't get _that day_ out of his mind, that queer twitch of the other boy's upper lip, his pale hair clinging to his forehead after a rushing release, his pants, that breath hot on Harry's skin and he didn't know what to do.

Defeated he sighed again, for what seemed like the millionth time this morning, and threw his arm up over his head. His eyes lazily skimmed the dimly lit bedchamber, taking in the other figures slumbering blissfully, and he fell a twinge of jealousy in his chest with something _unexpected_... A coil of deliciously familiar pain began to twist and poke in his lower belly and he bit into his bottom lip, knowing exactly what this meant.

A small mewling sound escaped him and he thrust his fist against his slightly parted lips to keep the sound from echoing in the round room. As carefully and nonchalantly as he could, though nobody's eyes were on him, he snuck his hand down beneath the bedsheets to just brush his fingers against the slight ridge in his pyjama bottoms. A breathless whimper escaped Harry. He was growing harder and harder by the minute, his prick thickening beneath his hand as he closed his eyes, lashes fluttering against the skin as he recalled the memory of _that day_. The memory of rain against his skin sent a cool shiver down his spine that wrung out every nerve in his body until it shot down his legs and fizzled out through his toes, like wand-less magic.

Harry shivered somewhat in pleasure at the memory of the cool dampness of the precipitation clinging to his skin, soaking through his cloak into his jumper, enveloping him like a cool shroud. As he twisted his wrist going through the movements, he envisioned the other standing in front of him and caging him against the rough brick wall, his 4 inches of height used to his advantage, that predatory gleam in his eye that seemed to just drive Harry _mad_.

And - _fuck_ \- Harry felt himself getting awfully close at just the mere memory. He chased his orgasm just like he chased the memory of those ghosting touches, the firmness and assuredness of the other's touches, the warmth of his breath, the thickness of his voice. Harry arched upwards and backwards, his neck lolling as he pushed into his pillow. He bit into the thickness of his lower lip to encase his ecstasy-riddled cry as he came, feeling the wet slickness run over his fist. But, despite his efforts, a word managed to slip past his lips. Only one word. The word that had been haunting him. It came out breathlessly, as if he wasn't alone in that bed. It took two breaths to get it out. "Draco..."

*****

Harry felt completely knackered by the time breakfast rolled around and sat lazily at the Gryffindor table stirring around his porridge with minimal effort.

"Are you quite alright?"

Came Hermione's voice as she poked him in the arm with the end of her fork.

"Hmm?"

Harry looked over at her, snapping back to reality as if he had been worlds away.

"Oh, yeah. Yeah. I'm...fine. Just didn't sleep good, that's all."

"Eat your breakfast, then. We've got a big day today in Herbology. You need your strength."

 _"_ _Yes mother."_

Harry muttered under his breath as he stuck his spoon back into the porridge. As Hermione continued to prattle on about Moondrops and Tentacula, Harry found his eyes, as well as his mind, wandering. Those clear pools of emerald colour scanned over the Slytherin table, searching for a familiar figure.

Harry felt a sinking feeling of almost... _dismay_ as his eyes didn't find who he was searching for.

" _Oi!_ Are you even _listening_ to us?"

Harry looked up to see Ron's irritated expression, brows knitted together as he retracted the utensil that he had jabbed Harry with.

"Yes, yes, I'm listening."

Harry replied crossly, rubbing his arm.

"And would you two quit poking me?"

He grumbled settling back into his slumped posture at the table.

"So, Quidditch later, right? _Right_ _?_ _"_

Ron dug into his arm once again.

 _"_ _Yes._ Now _stop_ doing that."

Harry rubbed at a mark on his neck, a place where he felt something of phantom pain. Ron stretched his neck across the table to try and get a better look at what it was.

"Is-is that a... _hickey? Harry..._ have you been _shagging_ and not telling me?"

The ginger spoke almost scandalously, as if he was offended he wasn't getting prime personal information on Harry's private life.

" _What?_ No!"

Harry started, seeing that Ron had attracted the attention of the nearby breakfast-goers. Hermione's brown eyes were fixed upon him. She narrowed them some, reaching for the collar of Harry shirt to try and better inspect the mark. Harry brushed her hand away almost roughly.

" _Quit_ touching me, you two. Merlin. One would think you two fancied me or something."

"Well, how nice of you to not tell me about your private life."

Ron grumbled.

"That's because it's _private_."

Harry seared.

"I'm your best friend!"

Harry sucked in his lower lip and suppressed the urge to smack the ginger.

"Ron..."

Harry started crossly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I swear, if you don't _drop it_ I will-"

The threat trailed off as Harry found himself being distracted once more by a figure that had just entered the Hall. Harry's eyes moved with the Slytherin as he walked ramrod straight between the table and stooped over the Slytherin one to scoop up a muffin or two before turning on his heel to leave.

Harry stood abruptly from the table, not hearing Ron's begrudging reply of "yeah? _Or what?"_ as his eyes followed Draco.

He grabbed his knapsack and began his own exit.

"Harry?"

Hermione called after him.

Damn Malfoy and those long legs of his, Harry had to walk double time just to catch him. He brushed the fingers of his left hand over the Slytherin's shoulder who stopped abruptly, jerking around.

 _"_ _Potter,"_

He started haughtily.

"Draco."

Harry returned. He licked his lower lip, swallowing hard as he thought about the last time he had seen those cool grey eyes...when they were looking at him as they-

"Is there a particular reason you stopped me? I'm quite busy."

Harry's brows furrowed some. _Why was Malfoy being...well, so Malfoy-y?_ Harry turned his eyes aside, a bit downcast. He supposed that just because they had gotten off together didn't make them best mates right off the bat.

"I-I just wanted to say...hello."

Harry stammered, feeling colour rush into his face. _Smooth, Harry. So smooth._

Draco quirked one brow up into that reposed, snide expression he was so good at.

"Well hello. And good day. Must dash. Better things to do."

That stung some. _Better things to do..._ Harry must have been out of his mind to think that _Draco fucking Malfoy_ , the Slytherin _prince_ ever _fancied_ him.

" _Draco!_ Wait."

Harry clung fervently to the other's arm for a moment.

" _What,_ Potter _?"_

"Don't suppose it's going to rain anytime soon, do you?"

Harry was _trying_ to make an innuendo, revert back to _that day..._ seems like he didn't do a very good job judging by the gob smacked look on Draco's face.

"No...I suppose not."

Draco shook his head, aggravated.

"What is this song and dance all about, Potter? Rain, hello? We're not exactly _friends,_ are we?"

Harry felt the sudden and strong urge to slap the Slytherin square across that smug, smarmy face of his.

"You...you complete...wanker!"

Harry hollered, this time following through on the instinct to slap the other boy.

Draco cringed slightly at the searing contact of Harry's palm against his face. It left a mark, pink bleeding into the pale pallor of the skin.

Some students that had been walking past stopped, their eyes drawn to the famed pair.

Draco worked his jaw slightly, rubbing at the offending injury.

"Did I... _deserve_ that?"

Harry blew a harsh breath out his nostrils. He couldn't _believe_ how illusive Draco was being. Was this all just some kind of game for him, like a cat toying with string?  _Probably_ came a harsh thought in Harry's mind.

He balled his fists at his sides.

" _Yes_."

He ground out between his clenched teeth. Draco only shrugged.

"Very well. Well, whatever I did, don't expect me to _apologize_ for it."

He turned on his heel to leave when Harry's hand caught his arm harshly.

"Oh no. I am not _done_ with you yet."

A cruel smirk now adorned the Slytherin's angular face. He looked down his nose at the Gryffindor.

"My, my, Potter. You look... _delicious_ all riled up like this."

He whispered the word, as if knowing that it would only egg Harry on further.

"Why you smarmy _bastard!"_

Harry took another swing at him, but Draco caught his arm.

"Now, now, Potter. Wouldn't want to _ruin_ my pretty face, now would you?"

Harry barred his teeth, oblivious to the small crowd that had now grown around the two of them.

"I really must be on my way-"

He started, turning once more. But not before Harry bellowed,

"Not just _anyone_ , huh?"

That had Malfoy stopping dead in his tracks, and when he turned, he appeared paler than before.

"So, it was all just a ruse, right? Figures _you_ would be looking for something quick, _disposable._ All you Slytherins are good for is _using_ people."

"Potter..."

Draco warned, his voice taking on a different pitch as he approached, reaching out a hand.

 _"_ _Don't-"_

Draco's voice was edged, and his eyes held something Harry had never seen before - fear.

"I suppose you don't even _remember_. But I - I can't stop thinking about _that_ _day..."_

Harry moved closer, their hands almost touching.

"That day in the rain..."

He whispered.

Draco's colourless eyes scanned the small group of spectators once more before he began to laugh conceitedly.

"What are you on about, Potter?  _Fantasizing again?"_

He tried to laugh it off, but that was before Harry acted.

The Gryffindor plowed forward, pinning Draco flat against the wall behind them. There were unintelligible murmurs of surprise.

"Where is your wand, _Malfoy?"_

Harry spoke roughly, his eyes dark.

Draco swallowed painfully, searching for a way out of this situation.

"Don't tell me that you don't _think_ about it,"

Harry started, speaking as if it were just the two of them.

"Your hand on me,"

The Gryffindor's hand moved slowly from its position on Draco's chest down his stomach, _slithering_ almost as it landed on the taller's thigh.

"just like _this_."

But before Harry could bring his hand in to cup Draco's crotch, the Slytherin reacted.

And _not_ in the way that Harry had expected.

He had _expected_ a punch to the face, or a reprimanding jinx. But _instead_ he felt Malfoy's hand on the back of his neck, drawing him in close, kissing him fervently.

Draco's lips were pliant, yet soft as they pressed over his own, his teeth gently nipping at the corners of his mouth.

Harry's eyes went wide with shock and apparently, he wasn't the only one. There were horrified cries of surprise from the crowd, and Harry could've sworn he had seen, out of the corner of his eye, Pansy Parkinson drop like dead weight onto the cobblestones.

 _"_ _Bloody hell-"_

That was surely Ron.

But Harry tried to block it out, block it _all_ out as he savoured this small moment. As quick as it had happened, however, it ended.

Draco's face was an unusual shade of pink, flushed with never-seen embarrassment.

He pushed Harry away, scrambling to get away from not only the Gryffindor but everyone who had just seen that _mistake._

*****

Harry was _distracted_. Well, maybe _distracted_ wasn't the right world. How about _consumed_ , yes that was better. He was _consumed_ with the thoughts of this morning as he tapped his quill against his notebook, not really paying attention to Flitwick's babbling about advanced charms.

It was probably important, and something he'd have to copy notes on from Hermione later, but right now Harry's mind was _completely occupied_ with the empty seat across the way from him.

That made three lessons now that Draco had been absent from. Harry wondered where he could be-

"Mister Potter?"

Harry's head jerked up and he saw Professor Flitwick standing directly in front of him.

"Would you like to demonstrate for the class the technique I was just explaining?"

A sheepish look came across the Gryffindor's face, accompanied by a hot blush.

"Umm...I'm afraid-"

" _He wasn't listening_."

Hermione muttered.

Flitwick smiled some, a knowing look in his eye.

"Miss Granger if you would be so kind. As for you, Mister Potter,"

Harry gulped. _Great_ this was going to land him with a week's worth of charms homework now.

"Step outside and take a moment to collect yourself."

There were a few snickers from the class as Flitwick watched Hermione expectantly as she effortlessly doubled the stack of books in front of her.

Harry was on his way down the corridor, head still stuck in a fog as he thought about Draco's lips covering his own. He absently ran his fingers over his mouth.

He shook his head. This needed to stop. He couldn't be _fantasizing_ about _Draco Malfoy_ all year long or he was never going to make it through his O.W.L.'s.

He turned right down the forked corridor, stepping into the lavatory at the end of the way. Running some water into the basin, he scooped it up, letting the cool liquid splash over his face. He closed his eyes, breathing out a breath.

It reminded him of the rain...

"What are _you_ doing here?"

Harry turned, wiping his eyes with his sleeve before he replaced his glasses. Draco had stepped out from behind the wall.

"So, this is where you've been _hiding_."

"I'm not _hiding."_

Draco retorted.

"Then what would you call it?"

The Slytherin opened his mouth, then closed it.

"Well...if _you_ hadn't _started in-"_

" _Me? You're_ the one who made it seem like nothing! I am not one of your replaceable floozies, Malfoy. Don't ever think for a second that I would just let you-"

Harry was cut off with Malfoy's lips on his own. Both of the other's hands were cupped behind his ears, kissing him tenderly.

He pulled back.

"I-I..."

Harry blinked three times, lost for words.

"Don't presume to think that it _didn't_ mean anything."

Draco started.

"What does _that_ mean?"

Draco rolled his eyes.

" _Shut up,_ Potter."

He did smile some before he replaced his velvety mouth over Harry's. Harry stood still for a moment before he reached out a hand and placed it upon Malfoy's waist. The kisses slowly became less sweet and more and more aggressive.

Harry felt the small of his back ram into the sink behind him as Draco pushed forward with familiar animosity.

"Draco..."

Harry whispered, echoing that breathless cry he had spoken only earlier that morning. The disyllabic pant of his name seemed to make Draco shiver. He kissed Harry for longer, and deeper, his breaths short and winded.

Voices echoing at the entryway of the lavatory had Draco moving them quickly. He ushered Harry into one of the stalls, pushing Harry back against the door as he continued his ravaging kisses, turning the lock with his free hand.

The other was much too occupied with the strain in the Gryffindor's slacks. Harry felt an obscene blush rouge his face, but it was all worth it in the end if it meant that he got to feel Draco's dexterous fingers bring him over the edge.

Those long, slim digits were curling now, teasing him.

"Draco..."

Harry panted again, and the sound had the other boy bucking his hips forward as he smoothed some of Harry's dark locks out of the way. His lips went back to the Gryffindor's throat, a hand coming around Harry's back, pulling him closer.

Harry drew his foot up the side of Draco's leg, tingling with both want and magic.

"Draco..."

This time the echo of the other's name was more breathless.

"Are you trying to drive me _mad?"_

Draco asked, turning his grey eyes up to meet Harry's. A wicked smirk adorned his face.

"Because it's _working_."

"Well - _fuck_."

Harry groaned, feeling Draco roll his hip forward harshly, causing Harry to slam back into the door.

" _Hngh..."_

Draco looked at him with newfound concern.

Harry grabbed onto the Slytherin's shirttails, his eyes blazing.

"I have never wanted anything as much as I want _you."_

"Are you sincere?"

Draco asked, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin around Harry's Adam's apple.

A swift squeeze of the Slytherin's prick had him knowing how sincere Harry's declaration was.

Inside Harry was craving, aching...his insides were all twisted up with want.

Draco's hand dragged down Harry's side, surprised to feel his light pressure dig into taut muscle. Harry seemed to come alive at the small gesture, rolling his hips forward and tilting his neck back.

He gasped some, yanking down on Draco's shirttails.

That had the Slytherin reaching for the closure on Harry's trousers and Harry worked swiftly on Draco's.

The small cubicle stunk of sweat and unbridled want, and it was far _far_ too hot.

Draco was pulling his arms out of his shirt as he attempted to continue kissing Harry.

The Gryffindor struggled with his own shirt and tie, desperate to be skin to skin to skin with Draco.

They were both huffing and panting, groping at each other's shoulders and chests, mouths covering each other, tongues winding together as they battled each other like dragons for control of the situation.

Harry threw one arm around Draco's neck as he continued to kiss his neck zealously. No words were exchanged, just breathless whispers ghosting in hot gusts past each other's faces.

Harry's hand, which had sunk into the inseam of Draco's thigh, felt the other boy's pulse beat rapidly underneath his fingertips.

Draco's pale lashes fluttered as Harry set his lips to work on the Slytherin's neck, repaying the favour of the bruise that had gotten him into trouble in the first place.

All traces of haughtiness were gone as Malfoy pushed away his trousers and pants, rolling his hips forward, eliciting a _delightful_ moan from the Gryffindor.

"At least _pretend_ to not enjoy this so much,"

Draco smiled snidely.

"We're _supposed_ to be _enemies."_

Harry was breathless as he drew the taller forward by the back of his neck to crash their lips together. He licked Draco's upper lip.

"Shut up, _Malfoy."_

Harry pushed at his wool slacks, desperation getting the better of him as he rolled his naked hips forward into Draco's. They clung to each other like their lives depended on it.

Draco left a hot, wet trail of kisses down Harry's neck, offering a playful nip to the juncture between his neck and shoulder which had Harry's cock jumping with delighted interest.

Draco's eyes shot up from their downcast position to lock with Harry's.

He reached his hand down between the pair of them, teasing their foreskin together with aching expertise as he narrowly rubbed the glistening heads of their cocks together.

Harry's head was thrown back as a moan tore its way up from the depths of his chest and ripped through his throat.

That had Draco working their pricks harder and faster in his pre-come soaked hand. Harry watched with his mouth agape as the digits dripped.

In a moment of particular boldness, he grabbed Malfoy by the wrist and drew one, two fingers into his mouth, sucking with purpose.

A bashful flush decorated his face as he released Draco's hand, unsure of how the other would react. But, to Harry's great astonishment, Draco's colourless eyes were practically inkwells with his pupils dilated to their absolute maximum.

He grabbed Harry by the threads of hair at the nape of his neck and crashed their mouths together, letting off a series of moans into the Gryffindor's mouth, as well as a short slew of curses.

Draco's hand went back down between their thighs to work their neglected lengths, and he locked his eyes with Harry's, using his free hand to guide the Gryffindor's down onto his rather occupied one.

Harry's eyes damn near _rolled back into his head_ at the illustrious feeling that the contact brought him.

His free arm went above his head, banging into the cubicle door as if it were a bed and he wasn't upright.

A shameless series of moans left the throats of both boys, who were slickened with glistening sheens of sweat, Draco's bottom lip drawn into his mouth, Harry's tongue at the corner of his as they both watched the almost involuntary actions of their hands gliding over the smooth, hardened expanses of their members.

Draco's was slightly longer, but Harry's was thicker.

Their chests heaved in and out of sync, bumping against each other every once and a while when they took a particularly deep breath.

Draco let out a moan, deep in pitch at first, and slowly it climbed into a shrill whine as he rested his forehead against Harry's, jerking his wrist sharply to the right, using Harry's mouth as a place to scream his pleasure as he spilled over both of their hands.

If Harry hadn't been close in that moment, he certainly would have been in a matter of _seconds_. His cry was untamed, and echoed quite scantily though the _hopefully_ otherwise unoccupied lavatory.

They both heaved well-needed breaths for several moments, steadying their weight by holding onto each other's arms or shoulders as they rode out the debilitating waves of their orgasms.

Harry's head was tucked underneath Malfoy's chin, the Slytherin trembling slightly.

"Oh shit... _shit! Shit shit!"_

Harry scanned the cramped cubicle for his shirt and tie, holding his hands upside his head.

"What?"

Draco said, his eyes a bit wide.

"I was supposed to be back in charms..."

Harry grabbed Draco's wrist, looking at his timepiece.

" _Fifteen minutes ago. Fuck!"_

He felt a familiar tingle and glanced down to see Draco's magic glittering over him.

"Go,"

Draco started, fastening his trousers as he grabbed his shirt from where it had fallen beside the toilet.

Harry attempted to smooth out the wrinkles in his clothes and mat down his hair, which had decided to become unruly and was _determined_ to stick up in every possible direction.

Draco cast a longing look after Harry as the Gryffindor disappeared from his line of sight. Then Harry reappeared, taking Draco by either side of the face, kissing him one last time, and pulled away.

"Bye,"

He stated breathlessly, leaving Draco standing there, incredulously, completely thunderstruck as to what had just happened.

Normally _he_ was the one _leaving_ after sex. His mind felt completely boggled, hazed over with sex and the phantom feeling of Potter's lips on his neck.

" _Merlin_."

He spat, scrunching up his nose.

How could he _possibly_ admit to anyone else, let alone _himself_ , that he had a _thing_ for _Harry fucking Potter_?

*****

 

 


End file.
